RAD
by TheFABFive2015
Summary: TAG 2015. A follow up to the truly brilliant High Strung. So, what else could R.A.D. actually stand for? The world's most long suffering big brother's about to find out.


Oh, wasn't High Strung just brilliant?! The funniest episode so far, but... oh, dear. Poor Scotty!

The plot bunnies loved it too. With apologies to Brains, here's their thoughts on what R.A.D might also stand for.

Enjoy!

* * *

R.A.D.

"You're gonna do _what_?!"

Virgil winced. Over their private comms channel, Scott's voice had been kinda... loud.

"Are you _nuts_?!"

Hmm, pretty snarky too. His brother clearly wasn't impressed by what he'd just suggested. Time for the family peacemaker to do what the family peacemaker did best.

"I know he's a bit of a handful, Scott, but... look, trust me. I know what I'm doing."

Silence. The kind where you just knew your sanity was being seriously challenged. And even if he couldn't see it, Virgil knew there'd be a hand pressed to his brother's forehead.

Finally, the world's most long suffering big brother sighed out a weary plea for mercy.

"No, _Alan's_ a handful. _Gordon's_ a handful. But this kid, Virg, he's... he's..."

"...a handful of a handful?"

More silent debate on whether they were actually related. Followed, eventually, by another, all too familiar sigh.

"Fine. But if you want to show the Calamity Kid around the island, he's _your_ responsibility."

In big brother speak - _I still think you're nuts, but I'll let you find that out for yourself._

"And _no cameras_!"

Yeah, like he needed to be told about that. Virgil was still smiling, though, as he glanced down to the helmet on Brandon's seat. Okay, so he'd been a bit of a sneak, disabling it like that when the kid wasn't looking, but - well, needs must. When it came to their number one rule, Scott was absolutely right. Putting their technology on public show was a non negotiable no-no.

"Done and done, Scott. Now, put One on auto and just try to chill, okay? I've got this."

To ongoing mutters of _'crazy little brothers'_ and _'how they outta have grey hairs instead of giving 'em to me_,' Scott sighed once more, then broke the call. There'd been a smile in that sigh, though - because Virgil was grinning too.

As whoops of excitement grew louder behind him, Virgil had to admit his brother had a point. Inviting Brandon Berenger back to Tracy Island was a recipe for disaster, with a capital D.

Then again, he had a point to make too. If he had to be a bit nuts to pull it off, then nuts he'd be. Patient too. Really, _really_ patient, for the bundle of chattering energy who made Gordon sound like a secluded monk.

"Whoa, this is sooooo cool! I'm in Thunderbird Two! _Thunderbird Two_! The best big green, pick up machine, and... hey, Virg? What's she like to fly?"

Uh oh. The last time he'd faced the true motive behind that question, he'd almost choked on his coffee.

No death by caffeine this time, though. No eager beaver kid brother either. But his response to it now was still the same one that he'd given, just as gently, to Alan then.

"Oh, she's a real dream, all right. But only from _lots_ of practice and effort."

Aah, just the word that a carefree teenager loves to hear. Just as Alan's had then, Brandon's thoughts had already bounced on to another subject that wouldn't be quite so strenuous. And surely it couldn't be coincidence, either, that they'd latched onto the same, heroic figure?

"Yeah, the only reason Scott let me go on the RAD was 'cos he had to use that cape thing to slow us down, and... so, he's your big brother, right? That's so cool, I'm an only kid... yeah, my mom always said I was more than enough on my own, and... yeah, it'd be so cool to have a big brother like that, and... so, he's in charge, right? He tells you guys what to do?!"

Against this tide of chattering noise, Virgil just nodded and smiled as he let it wash over him. From years of listening to hyper chatty little brothers, he had this ability to tolerate it down to a fine art.

"...yeah, that figures... I mean, he's really cool, and really smart, and a real adrenaline junkie like me, but he's kinda grouchy too. A bit of a bossy boots, y'know?"

Oooops. Friendly eyes narrowed, while a firmer voice reminded him who he was talking about.

"Only when he needs to be, Brandon. Saving lives is a serious business. As you'll know yourself now, when your life's in danger, there's no time to fool around. Everything Scott did on that mountain, or told _you_ to do, had only one purpose. To save _both_ your lives."

With or without his more serious tone, Virgil knew he'd made his point. Bright brown eyes that were too scarily like Gordon's mirrored the same response to this gentlest of rebukes. Reminded again of the trouble he'd caused, Brandon nodded with genuine contrition.

"Yeah, when I wanted to nap down, I thought I was just tired, and... whoa, that was really hypothermia? I mean, it set in so fast, and I just... you know, thought I was just cold."

"Yes, it was." Virgil nodded, his voice gentling for what he had to say next. "And in the conditions you were in back there, it can be deadly, especially with the wind chill that was coming through that valley. That's why Scott kept yelling at you to stay awake. If you'd taken that nap, Brandon, the chances are you wouldn't have woken up."

When silence answered him this time, Virgil glanced instinctively towards his passenger, and offered him a reassuring smile. As he'd seen so often before, the impact of almost dying was starting to make itself felt.

For some, it had brought tears of shock in its wake. Others had just sat or stood in stunned silence, while a thankful small minority had brushed off their rescuers' bravery without so much of a thank you.

Unlike Lemaire, though, Brandon's close call had affected him enough for him to learn its lesson. For him, it meant one hell of a lot to think about as Virgil guided Two into her hangar. And for Scott, waiting as he always did for his brother's return, it meant _'what the hell_?' confusion as the teenager ran up to him. Even if it came through teasing laughter, Virgil loved every moment of explaining why Brandon had all but bounced into his arms.

"I think that's Brandon-speak for thanks, bro."

Aaah yes. Whether from a little brother, or a total stranger, nothing turned the fearless leader of International Rescue into a puddle of goo faster than a joyously happy hug. Those doubts over Virgil's idea to bring him here were forgotten too now, as Scott met his brother's eyes, and acknowledged the brilliance behind it. If teaching this kid a few lessons in sense and judgement cost him a few more grey hairs, then - yes, the benefits it would bring to them all would be more than worth it.

Following them out of Two's hangar towards the den, Virgil allowed himself a satisfied grin. So far, so good. Better still, the chaos he'd expected when three hyperactive teenagers met each other didn't happen. Instead, Brandon seemed in genuine awe that Gordon and Alan had been trusted with such responsibility as they gave him a quick tour around the den.

"But Gordon, you're just three years older than me! And Alan, we're, like, the same age!"

To their brothers' greater amusement, Gordon didn't get a chance to respond before Brandon's tide of admiration continued.

"Whoa, and you get to save lives too, just like Scotty... wow, that is just _sooooooo_ cool!"

Surrounded by three smirking little brothers, the 'Scotty' in question physically cringed. Was there any chance that he'd come through this little spell of hero worship with his dignity intact?

"Oh, _suuuure_... we'd be lost without our Scotty..."

"...yeah, our Scotty's something else..."

"...best Scotty in the world..."

Was there hell.

"...and he just _loves_ being called Scotty."

 _'Yeah, as much as_ _you_ _love being called Johnny_.'

Yes, he was gonna pay for that - especially when a certain Captain O'Bannon came by to call. And damn if all these grins around him weren't just so damn contagious.

Beyond all the tickle hugs and laughter, though, lay the greater seriousness of their father's legacy. Getting Brandon to appreciate its 'coolness' was one thing, but getting him to fully respect it was quite another, and... hmm, showing such interest in its origins was a promising start.

"So was setting up International Rescue your dad's thing when he retired? Something to, you know, keep him out of your mom's hair?"

Another 'ooops' moment that passed unnoticed this time, as Brandon peered along the portraits behind him. By the time he turned back again, the grief on their living counterparts was gone.

Still hugging Alan against him, it was Scott who finally, and quietly, then spoke for them all.

"Well, no... not exactly. You'd be too young to remember it, Brandon, but twelve years ago, there was a massive disaster in Germany. Over fifty miners were trapped, and twenty nine of them died before the rescue teams could get them out. Luckily, our dad had the ability to build the machines and vehicles that can reach people in just about any emergency, and... well, the rest, as they say, is history. He created International Rescue, and we've been saving lives ever since."

Okay, so he'd condensed their father's dream into a typically modest nutshell, but its outcome was still everything he'd hoped for. The kid whose thoughtless stupidity had endangered their lives just hours before was now seeing his new heroes through older, wiser eyes.

"Wow, that's just sooooo cool! I wish _I_ could do something as cool as that. I mean, helping people, and saving people's lives... that's gotta be the best rush ever, right?"

Glancing back at Virgil, Scott could see the same thought dawn through a broadening grin. Okay, so there'd been another flash of self serving interest, but if this undoubtedly bright kid beneath it could just be nurtured the right way - yes, Brandon Berenger's life would be so much more meaningful than the one he'd spend under Francois Lemaire's thankless ego.

"Hey, there's no reason why you shouldn't," Virgil said at last, just pipping Scott to the post which his brother then proudly conceded. "As you said, Brandon, you've got millions of followers out there. If you could just reach some of them with the lessons you've learned today, then... well, you'd be doing your own neat thing. Because yes, you're right. Helping people really _is_ the best feeling in the world."

The response was all he'd hoped for. Halfway through reading Alan's logbook of missions and rescues, Brandon's head shot up so fast, he almost gave himself whiplash.

"Whoa, seriously? _Seriously_?!"

"Sure!" Alan beamed, clapping his fellow teen and new best friend on the back. "I mean, you're the same age as me, and _I_ fly Thunderbird Three into space!"

Aaah, just the kind of life-goal that a hyper-impressionable teenager dreams to achieve. And a thought that would give the world's most long suffering big brother the mother and grandmother of nightmares.

Luckily, that brother had his very own guardian lumberjack on hand, who'd recognized this impending disaster, and now moved with practised skill and diplomacy to stop it.

"Of course, you'd need to learn a lot more about how we operate, and who we work with, but... look, let me and Scott here make some calls, and we'll see where we go from there... okay?"

From the sigh of relief beside him, and joyous fist-bumps in front - yes, it was. For Team Tracy, it was FAB. For their genius engineer, it was RAD.

And for Brandon Berenger, their potentially newest recruit, it was the kind of offer that -

"Whoa, this is gonna be _soooooo_ awesome, and... hey, Scott? Whoa, Scotty, do I get one of these neat suits too?"

\- made the fearless leader of International Rescue groan aloud, and bury his head into his hands.

Still, at least he had his guardian lumberjack there to slide a consoling arm around his shoulders - fond laughter finally persuading him to do the same as he relaxed back against Virgil's side.

"Hey, you survived _us_ as teenagers, right? And you're still doing one hell of a job with Gords and Alan. If you can do all that without going grey overnight, you can do it again now."

Wow, he was getting real good at these barn-storming pep talks. If not for him peering over his mostly chestnutty head, Scott might have taken it more seriously.

Beyond the rolled eyes and hand-swats, though, Scott's face still held a proud smile for the brilliant method of his brother's madness.

"Yeah, I guess if anyone can keep him out of trouble, it's gonna be us, and... yeah, smart thinking, Virg. Not so nuts after all."

"Gee, thanks, bro, you're just all heart. And at least now we know what R.A.D. should actually stand for," Virgil grinned, kindly spelling his latest brainwave out for a brother who was still keeping a watchful eye on his triplicated worst nightmare. "R.A.D.? As in recruitment and development?"

"I was going more for Real Awesome Dude," Scott shot back, grinning too as he gave his newest admirer a cheery thumbs up. "And who knows? He could end up working with our old friend Ned!"

Yet again, silence reigned. Only this time, it was Virgil's turn to stare at his brother as if he'd just grown an extra head.

"You _do_ realize Aunt Val would actually try to kill you, right?"

Damn if that grin just didn't get bigger - joined by a response that made the fearless Virgil Tracy groan aloud, and bury his head into his hands.

"Hey, no problem. I'll just tell her it all came from _your_ idea."


End file.
